


to sleep, perchance to dream

by OnyxSphynx



Series: newmann one-shots [8]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash, newt pls let hermann sleep, roommate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 13:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphynx/pseuds/OnyxSphynx
Summary: Newt's mind is going too fast to sleep. Hermann's isn't.





	to sleep, perchance to dream

**Author's Note:**

> for the anon prompt "For the prompt thing, can you do the Charles Dickens moon shut up roommate one with Newt and Hermann? I can so see them in this lol"

Hermann really just wants to sleep; he’s just gotten done with the first part of his astrophysics final, and his shift at work was less-than-pleasant, and there’s nothing he’d like more than to be able to block out the world for six or seven hours and sleep.

Fate, however, has other plans, because his roommate, one Newton Geiszler, gets back at nine-thirty, ignores Hermann’s offer of pasta for dinner, and launches into a long-winded rant on verb conjugation. So far, Hermann’s managed to not throttle the man, but his patience is wearing thin.

He’s saying something about Charles Dickens and prison reform, and Hermann rolls over with a huff, cursing the fact that it’s a one-bedroom apartment, and Newt is on the other side of the room, still clearly audible even when Hermann shoves his head under the pillow.

With a sigh, he gives up the proverbial ghost and sits up, glaring at his roommate, who’s propped up against the wall, chattering away, and probably sugar-high. “Newton,” he says, then, again, when the other doesn’t notice, “ _Newton_!”

“Huh?” Newton questions, jerking to peer into the darkness, eyes wide behind his glasses.

“As much as I enjoy your tirades,” Hermann says, tiredness creeping into his tone, “it is almost eleven o’ clock. For the love of all that is holy, please, be quiet.”

For a few minutes, it seems to work, but then, just as he’s settling down, Newton says, “You know, the moon must feel kinda bad, ‘cause it can only reflect light from the sun.”

Hermann groans. “What on  _Earth_ are you talking about?”

“It can’t create any light of its—it’s only bright because it reflects light from the sun,” Newton clarifies, then adds, voice sad, “it must feel kinda insignificant. I mean, I would. Do.”

Hermann draws in a fortifying breath, and braces for a headache. “Explain.”

Newton happily does so. “I mean, like, the sun’s really cool and complex, and the moon’s just a hunk of rock in its orbit, reflecting its light but never able to create any of its own, like, the moon’s cool, but when it comes down to it, it’s just a glorified hunk of space rock. Sure, it controls the tides, but without the sun, there’d be no life on Earth.” His tone is melancholic, and Hermann suspects that he’s not talking about the actual sun and moon anymore.

Softly, he says, “…that’s certainly an interesting take, and I’d love to debate it further with you in the morning, but right now, you’re keeping me awake, and I need to get to sleep.”

“Oh! Sorry,” Newt says, shifting in his bed. 

Hermann sighs. “It’s alright. Your conversations are very interesting, but right now, I think your mind is caught in a state of hyperness whereas mine is attempting to shut down. I believe that it would be engaging for you if you were to…” he pauses, clears his throat, and fights a blush. “Well, perhaps, if you don’t mind…could you read me something? Out loud?”

There’s a pregnant pause, and Herman’s mind concocts a thousand ways that it could go wrong. Then, Newt says, “…yeah. Sure. Any preference?”

The tension drains from Hermann’s muscles. “No, whatever’s good. I believe that your voice will serve as a white noise and allow me to fall asleep more easily.”

“Sure, dude, sounds good,” Newton says, and shifts, clicking the lamp on, gets up and walks out of the room. After a minute or so, he returns, book in hand, and makes his way to Hermann’s bed. Hermann shifts to the side a bit to allow him room to sit, and Newt cracks the book open and begins. “In The Beginning. It was a nice day. All the days had been nice. There had been rather more than seven of them so far, and rain hadn’t been invented yet…”

Hermann drifts off to the sound of Newt’s voice, usually high and squeaky, now soft, narrating the rest of the chapter.


End file.
